


A Little Swimming Fool

by EgoStorm



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Magical Realism, Prince Hoshi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoStorm/pseuds/EgoStorm
Summary: Seokmin thinks he has most of his life figured out. His days, while varied, have a familiar rhythm to them that he could easily keep with. That is, until he meets a mysterious underwater prince. From then on, his grasp of reality starts to waver, as does his heart.





	A Little Swimming Fool

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story in my head for a long time now and I'm so glad I FINALLY have it written out. It may not be perfect, but I put a lot of effort into this! I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> A huge shout out to Somang for betaing this! You're a life-saver!
> 
> Also, thank you to the Svt Big Bang mods for putting the time and effort into running this fest!

**** The difference between fact and opinion is a concept often learned at a young age and thought to be mastered by then. Fact is objective while opinion is subjective, or at least that is how it is taught, but then why is it so common to encounter subjectivity presented as absolute? Why is it that when something  _ is _ , it can’t be otherwise? These were questions Seokmin found himself pondering when he realized the line between good and bad was more often drawn by hand, and when he was expected to draw a line of his own he could only hesitate. More often than asking what it meant for one to be good or bad, Seokmin found himself asking why people felt the need to categorize others in a one-dimensional adjective when no one had less than three dimensions to them. 

 

At some point in time much later than when he struggled between these seemingly simple definitions, he stopped asking, as he stopped being subject to such matters as people.

 

As of the present time, seeing the long stretch of incline ahead of him, the only question burning in Seokmin’s mind was why he had ever dismissed his lack of athletic ability as a reason to refuse to be a palace healer back when the selection was taking place. The prestige probably rang too loudly in his ears when he heard he was chosen, and at the young age of 13, it wasn’t like he could be accounted for having good judgment, either. Still, he should have mulled over it more than the ten seconds he did, considering that he was well aware of the fact that palace healers were required to ascend the gods’ mountain every morning.

 

Seokmin wasn’t the only one struggling though — two boys were hiking the mountain just beyond the Kingdom of Deorum, their pace slowing as their breaths quickened, their energy depleting rapidly. Seokmin’s energy was nearly spent, and even though their goal was close by, the distance was all too far to proceed without rest.

 

"Chan, let's take a break," Seokmin said, hands on knees to steady himself, letting out a huff and a light chuckle. The first thought that came to Seokmin’s mind when Chan looked back with a raised brow was that at the ripe age of 21, Seokmin must have been getting old. He had only been carrying a single supply bag while Chan carried three, and yet Chan looked like he had just barely started while Seokmin was struggling to endure even standing. It was amazing what a small number of years could do to the body, Seokmin thought, though he couldn’t recall being fit at any point in his lifetime.

 

Seokmin pleaded with a pout, and Chan entertained him with a playful smile. “Sure thing.”

 

Chan, both being used to the request and being the accommodating kid that he was, guided Seokmin to the usual boulder where the two of them could sit and Seokmin could wait out his exhaustion. Seokmin let his bag drop from his shoulder, the bag hitting the damp dirt with a small thud. He wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead, wondering if it was more humid than usual or if he was getting more out of shape by the day. 

 

"You know, for doing this every day, you don't have a whole lot of endurance," Chan jabbed with pinpoint accuracy at the same painful point Seokmin was brooding over, then handed him a canteen.

 

"A lot of things change when you get older.” Seokmin refuted briefly, comforting his pride before taking a swig of the cold water. Ah, even the sweetest wine couldn’t have satisfied him as much as the refreshing water that ran down his throat just then, the miraculous remedy that powered him up like no medicine could, and he cleared his throat to express it. He wondered if that thought and action also came from the years that continued to pile on top of him. "For one,” he continued with his argument, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “You don't have boundless energy like you did when you were a teen."

 

Chan laughed. "You're only three years older than I am, you can't call that old! That's like saying I'm middle-aged."

 

"Not middle-aged,  _ teen-aged _ ."

 

“Lame.” Chan patted the joke away along with the dirt on his trousers, prodding Seokmin with an elbow after they had been resting for a decent amount of time. "Are you ready to keep going,  _ old-geezer _ , or will I have to leave you behind?"

 

Seokmin heaved himself up, letting out an exaggerated elderly-sounding grunt. "Ready when you are."

 

The year marked the fifth year since he was assigned as the healer of the kingdom, and the second year since Chan was assigned as his apprentice. With only two short years with Chan by his side, he couldn’t remember how he had lived without him, and he couldn’t imagine life without him. Having the position of the palace healer, it was really Seokmin’s duty alone to hike up the mountain to receive the daily knowledge from the Trio of Gods that resided near the top, but he liked having Chan accompany him on the way up. Not only was he a good motivator, but he also had excellent searching senses, and on the hike down, the two of them would collect much more herbs than if Seokmin had gone on his own. They often started their journey up before dawn, only reaching their destination as the sun just barely started to show itself. The sliver of time between darkness and the smallest hints of sunlight was short when Chan was around to chase away the boredom of being alone.

 

"We're here," Chan whispered suddenly, palm on Seokmin’s chest, snapping him out of his ponderous daze. A mountainous wall was a foot from his nose, and one step further would have meant a throbbing stubbed toe and maybe a few tears. Seokmin smiled from amusement and relief. Really, what would he do without this kid?

 

Seokmin faced the rough wall as he cleared his throat. He placed his hand on the moss-covered wall, drew a breath, and then said in a low voice, “ I request entry to the Garden of the Gods.”

 

He opened his eyes, and although he knew what was happening in front of him after he recited the words of passage, his mind refused to believe it every time he saw the huge wall rapidly collapse on itself without disturbing the air or the peace of anything around it, as silent as the rise of the sun, and as natural as it wasn’t. When what was happening defied any kind of physical rules he grew up to understand, it almost felt as if he was dreaming as the collapse revealed a vast meadow of colors, roses and zinnias and lilies and morning glories waving with the wind and almost tempting Seokmin to wave back, if not for the taunting presence up ahead divided upon three thrones: the Trio of Gods.

 

Seokmin, followed closely behind by Chan, tread along the path that opened up before him, a few petals teasing his calves when they were carried by a small breeze. He kept his eyes low, watching as the flowers came closer to his feet, then further as he passed them by. He was more aware of the distance he covered than the vibrant petals that were mysteriously always in full bloom, and when he knew he had approached the gods close enough, he kneeled to show his respect. Not a second after he settled into his heel did he hear a robust and echoing voice speak to him.

 

“You may rise.”

 

On command, he did as told, standing himself up and allowing his eyes to meet the ones he most admired and feared, the gods that watched over him and the kingdom, the immortal beings that held more knowledge and power than he could ever think to even imagine, the Trio of Gods, Seungcheol, Jisoo, and Jeonghan.

 

Before a time anyone would have lived to remember, the Kingdom of Deorum was originally watched over by a single god. Seungcheol was the one and only almighty, the king being second in power, but even then, the gap in power between the two was ever so large. Only Seungcheol could remember but the tale was told, and the tale spoke of how lonely Seungcheol was. Seeing Kings rise, reign, then resign to the grave, a loneliness grew in his heart, and fearing the emotion, he divided his power to create a second god of equal power: Jeonghan. From that point in time, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were the Duo of Gods that watched over Deorum.

 

How the third god came to be was truly unique, as this god was once a human. A palace healer of Deorum had come up the mountain and left both Seungcheol and Jeonghan intrigued, and as the years rolled by, this palace healer, Jisoo, captured the gods’ hearts such that the gods were willing to divide their powers to turn him as immortal as they. And so there were three that watched over the kingdom of Deorum with their shared powers and shared hearts.

 

What that meant for Seokmin as the current palace healer was that he had to make eye contact with not one, but three gods as they fed him valuable information about the world and their kingdom. Seungcheol often gave political advice for Seokmin to relay to the current king, Jeonghan often informed Seokmin of current events of the world, and Jisoo often updated Seokmin on how he could become a better palace healer. It was systematic, but somehow, it was always nerve-wracking for Seokmin who was but a mere human sharing the same space as three almighty. These were the times that Seokmin truly appreciated having his apprentice by his side, Chan’s presence alone reassuring Seokmin that he was fine.

 

Receiving the gods’ knowledge only aged the day by ten minutes, and after climbing such a peak both physically and emotionally, the remainder of the day seemed so much less daunting. Seokmin’s world that was paused from enchantment resumed once again as the mysterious mountainous walls restructured themselves up behind them in the same fashion as they had crumbled.

 

“When do you think I’ll become a proper palace healer? When do you think I’ll be able to receive the gods’ knowledge directly? It can't be too long from now, right?” Chan asked with a bounce in his steps when they were a reasonable distance away from the garden entrance. As the ground became fewer tree roots and more moss, Chan’s strides became more eager.

 

Seokmin never remembered being so ecstatic for that particular part of being a palace healer. Chan sure had the right attitude for the job he was training for, unlike Seokmin who was blinded by the prestige. He reached out to brush away a leaf that landed on Chan’s hair. 

 

“It’ll happen before you know it.”

 

Chan grinned widely, the corners of his lips reaching his ears as he stepped with more spring. “Really? Really really? Do you think so?”

 

Chan quickened his pace, leaving Seokmin to watch him affectionately from behind.

 

“You’re going to be a great healer.”

 

“Hmm? What was that?”

 

Seokmin shook his head lightly. “Nothing.”

 

He let his vision drift to beyond the cliff as they were hiking down, letting his eyes fall to the sea. The ocean was quite calm today, Seokmin noted — a good day to fish. The sun was especially bright as there were no clouds to shield its rays, and the waters were almost too sparkling too keep his gaze on. He was about to look away, but movement by a darker figure caught his attention. A squint allowed him to distinguish what seemed like the upper half human-like figure in the water. A swimmer, perhaps, he thought at first. The water couldn't have been an ideal temperature though, with it being so early. Seokmin wondered what their motivation was. When the person dipped their head into the water and emerged a considerable distance away in the span of about a second, however, Seokmin nearly tripped from shock. He realized that as human as the figure looked, with that kind of speed underwater, it couldn't have been. Strange. 

 

“Hey Chan, do you know if there have been any mermaid sightings within the past few days?”

 

“Mermaids?” Chan perked up. “I haven't been paying attention to the announcements, but I don’t think so? Isn't it too early for them to be in the area, anyway?”

 

“That’s what I thought, but…”

 

Maybe she was a lone mermaid?

 

Seokmin looked back to the sea, but the figure was no longer on the surface and Seokmin was only left confused and doubtful of himself. He could easily have imagined it, as bright as the waters left green spots in his vision. He kept looking at the shore, and the more he blinked, the more he convinced himself that maybe it was just too early in the morning. 

 

“Maybe not.”

 

~~

 

“Mermaids?”

 

Seokmin nodded in affirmation, though he was certain Junhui hadn’t seen it, as his back was faced towards him. A cursed floral mark decorated Junhui’s bare shoulder blade, an ominous dark mark that plagued the royal family for generations, and Seokmin, as the palace healer, was the only one trusted to heal it, if only temporarily. It was the most important skill he had, bestowed upon him by the Trio of Gods when his position in the palace became official, and it was the reason he could never omit a day of work. 

 

The ritual that healed the King’s curse would expire by midnight, but the King’s curse was such that a day without healing would cause the King too great a pain to bear. It was a burning sensation, Junhui had said after experiencing it once in his life, as all kings did as a rite to the throne. It was almost an evil tradition, but it was tradition nonetheless. The cursed floral mark was a beautiful thing, tenderly dancing on Junhui’s skin, but it was equally as terrifying.

 

“I haven’t received reports of any,” Junhui stated. “But that’s not surprising. It’s too early for the season, isn’t it? We should still have another few weeks before they start showing up.”

 

Seokmin rung out the towel he had been soaking in the palace fountain — the water from the fountain was part of requirements of healing the cursed mark — and sighed. “But I’m not even all that sure it  _ was _ a mermaid, your highness.”

 

Junhui shook his head.

 

“Winter is coming, Seokmin. I have to make sure the people are prepared for mermaid season, even if it  _ is _ early. I can’t have my people starve because fishermen are enchanted by them. And I trust your judgment. If you thought you saw mermaids, I would be a fool not to listen to what you have to say. I’ll have Mingyu send out a notice immediately.”

 

“But, you see,” Seokmin very gently pressed the wet towel on Junhui’s shoulder blade, right in the center of the cursed floral mark. Junhui flinched as the mark quivered, and Seokmin instinctively winced in response. He knew better than to draw back, keeping a firm grip. “It doesn’t make sense. The mermaid, she… it was alone.”

 

Junhui tilted his head as if it would help him process Seokmin’s comment.

 

“Alone, you say?”

 

He turned — almost making Seokmin lose his grip on the towel — to give the healer an incredulous look. His brows were knit in confusion. “Are you sure?”

 

Seokmin couldn’t voice a response, almost doubting he even saw  _ anything _ at this point, but his silence was an answer enough.

 

Mermaids traveled in packs and there were no questions or exceptions about it. A mermaid by herself would surely be unable to survive. Being parasites that depended on other species for food, they hummed with their sweet voices to compel their prey into giving them their catch of the day, and their enchanted melodic voices worked on humans especially well. Fishermen were a common target, and every winter when the mermaids came to migrate to Deorum, fishermen would have to strategically move locations to avoid them. It was a fierce competition for fish between humans and mermaids, and a mermaid sighting was never a good sign for the fishermen or the townsfolk. 

 

A mermaid sighting, though, always meant that at least ten were spotted at once. A single mermaid voice held virtually no power, and a mermaid by herself couldn’t make anything, human or otherwise, hand her food. No mermaid was ever heard to be even  _ close _ to powerful enough to survive with her voice alone. A lone mermaid virtually meant she was sentenced to death, whether she got stranded or kicked out of a pack.

 

“I understand,” Junhui said after a long pause. “I’ll have Mingyu look into it with caution. If it really was a lone mermaid, then… we should be okay for now. But it’s possible that the pack was underwater and one came up to scope out the shore. Chan, did you see anything?”

 

Chan, who had been standing with Mingyu a respectable distance away from the two of them, shook his head rapidly. “I don’t know, I wasn’t looking that way. I’m sorry I can’t be of help, your highness.”

 

“No worries,” Junhui smiled gently, his hand making its way to his temple. “Mingyu,” he turned to his right-hand man. “Ask around town about this, would you? And try not to cause panic.”

 

“Yes, sir,” said Mingyu as he lowered his head.

 

At this time, upon Junhui’s shoulder, the vines of the cursed floral mark had weakened, the petals withering and converting from nearly black to a dark red. It was a sign that Seokmin had been performing the healing ritual for long enough, and he withdrew his towel, knowing that the mark would be gone in a few hours.

 

“Thank you,” Junhui muttered as he motioned for Mingyu to come and dress him. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

 

Seokmin nodded in gratitude and left with Chan to their lodging.

 

~~

 

Dinner tasted somewhat bland that evening, but Seokmin was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed. His doubts were convincing and he started questioning himself. Was he really okay? Did he hallucinate it all? Did he catch an illness that made him begin to lose his mind? Did he know of a cure for insanity?

 

“Hey, Seokmin?”

 

Seokmin looked across the table to see that Chan’s meal was barely eaten, if at all. His worries converted entirely from concern for himself to concern for Chan. He dropped his fork beside his plate. “What’s wrong?”

 

Chan waved his hand to waive Seokmin’s concern. “Nothing, it’s just that I was just wondering, um, maybe…” he poked at his potatoes, engraving them with the curve of his spoon. “I mean, if you don’t think it’s okay then I completely understand, but…”

 

Seokmin tried meeting Chan’s eyes, but Chan’s gaze didn’t leave his potatoes. 

 

“What is it?”

 

“Well, do you think that maybe, could I possibly…” Chan glanced up rapidly and then back down. “I know it’s a big deal and all, but, maybe could I… try healing some people myself?”

 

“Healing…”

 

Seokmin realized that Chan was probably long overdue for a patient of his own. Seokmin himself had only been an apprentice for a year before his teacher allowed him to start practicing on his own. Perhaps he had been hoarding Chan for too long with the selfish wish to keep the boy at his side.

 

“You don’t have to!” Chan blurted when Seokmin didn’t give him an immediate response. “If you don’t think I’m ready, then I’m not ready! I can wait until you think I am!”

 

Seokmin laughed heartily at Chan’s almost-apologetic outburst. “I think you’re more than ready. I just thought that I would miss you if you went to another town to become a healer.”

 

All the healers in the kingdom were trained and apprenticed under the palace healer, but there was only ever one palace healer at a time. There would ideally be one palace healer for every king’s lifetime, one trusted to heal the King’s curse, and every heir had a healer of their own, but with Junhui being the king without any siblings but the half-prince Mingyu, there was no room for another healer in the palace. Chan’s apprenticeship being completed would mean that Seokmin would have to bid him goodbye to another town.

 

Chan frowned. “Can’t I become a healer here? The palace can have  _ two _ healers, can’t it?”

 

“If a palace had more than one healer, there wouldn’t be enough work for the both of them,” Seokmin said reluctantly. “But if you’re willing to support me, I’ll retire early so you can stay here,” he joked.

 

“If anyone’s retiring early, it should be me, don’t you think?” Chan smiled finally, giving his potatoes a break from his mauling. “I go through so much being around you.”

 

Seokmin laughed, relieved that he was able to brush over the bitter near-future.

 

“We can toss a coin to see who retires first. I call heads.”

 

Chan slammed his hands down, his spoon becoming victim to a long fall to the floor. Seokmin almost jumped out of his chair from the sudden intensity that Chan displayed.

 

“Hey that’s unfair, I call heads! I  _ always _ call heads!”

 

“And you always win, too. I think I should be able to claim heads just this once.”

 

Chan opened his mouth to argue, but his stomach made an audible grumble that was louder than the grumble that came from his mouth. He stood up to fetch a new spoon.

 

“I’ll surrender for now, but that’s only because dinner is calling me, got it?”

 

Seokmin winked. “I’m looking forward to retiring early, then.”

 

~~

 

“Don’t worry, I’m right here to help you if anything goes wrong,” Seokmin assured as Chan’s hands shook lightly. The patient’s family probably hadn’t noticed, but Seokmin was close enough to be able to tell. The poor boy was nervous from treating a patient for the first time, but it was a simple case. Seokmin knew that Chan knew exactly what to do. As long as his nerves didn’t get in the way, Chan would do just fine.

 

“What do you think the patient is suffering from?” inquired Seokmin to guide him along.

 

“He’s coughing and his throat is sore, but he doesn’t have a fever. He doesn’t have lethargy or loss of appetite either, and nothing else seems to be bothering him except for his throat. His cough seems to be caused by his sore throat, and not the other way around, so I think it’s just a case of the dawn cough.”

 

It was an almost perfect answer — not quite perfect only because of the uncertainty that showed itself in the end.

 

“Good. And what do we use to treat it?”

 

Chan was already scanning the labels on the tins he brought out, squinting as if it would help him read more quickly. He seemed to be looking for a specific herb, and although his hands still trembled slightly, he worked quickly. His expression relaxed when he found what he was looking for. “Agrimony.”

 

Seokmin smiled in pride, feeling silly that his worries kept him awake the night before for longer than he would have liked to admit. Chan was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged healer, and all Seokmin had to do was support him.

 

On the way back from the patient’s lodging to their own, Seokmin and Chan crossed a beach, going the extra route to pass it as a small congratulatory prize for Chan successfully treating his first patient. It was a chance to relax before continuing on with their day. The beach was Chan’s second favorite place to be, the first being on the castle rooftop that was well-guarded and much more difficult to access, so this as best as Seokmin could do in the meantime. A small detour on the way back to the castle wouldn’t hurt anyone, and seeing Chan beam as he ran towards the shore was almost more of a gift to Seokmin.

 

But something cut their already small celebration even shorter. Chan spotted him first, a man that was lying on the shore, unconscious, soaked through and through by the sea, waves from the tide polishing his side as it came and went. When Chan yelled in panic rather than excitement, Seokmin’s heart dropped as adrenaline pumped through his veins. He ran over to the man, kneeling on the damp sand to examine him, promptly instructing Chan to grab the bag of supplies they had left hidden under branches to keep it from being prey to birds.

 

Seokmin wanted to be careful, not injuring the man any further than he may have been already, and so he hesitated. There was no blood, which was a good sign, but were there any broken bones? Was it safe to move him away from the water? How did the man end up there? How would he move him to a place he could treat him?

 

“Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine.”

 

Seokmin turned quickly to where he heard the voice but didn’t see anyone around. Was it his imagination trying to calm him down? He shook his head to let any panic leave his head and then turned back to the unconscious man, placing a steady hand on the man’s chest.

 

“He fainted from shock, but he isn’t injured. You might want to get him to dry land, though, or his body temperature might drop too low.”

 

Seokmin whipped his head around again, but no one was there. At this point, he was 90% convinced that he was going crazy. He had to be.

 

“Here.”

 

Here? As unreasonable as it might have seemed, he could have sworn he heard it coming from the sea, and while he was uncertain of himself, he turned towards the ocean. And what he saw in the waters, he was unable to take his eyes away from.

 

He saw what appeared to be a boy, a human, with drenched dark hair in defined locks slicked against his face. He was clothed in formal garb, it seemed. A navy blue attire was decorated with gold laced in the seams, and the buttons were embellished with small jade jewels. The breast pocket was lined with a blend of gold and silver, and when Seokmin tried knocking his brain for answers, he finally realized that the reason the clothing looked familiar was that it was hauntingly similar to the royal garb of Deorum that was used for ceremonial occasions. The only difference was that on the breast pocket of this particular garb was missing the royal seal of Deorum; otherwise, it was  a near-perfect replica. The colors were the slightest bit off, but that might have been due to their wet state. Seokmin would have questioned the boy about it if he wasn’t so distracted by the boy himself, who was submerged from the waist down in the ocean. There was a bigger question boiling in his mind and it had to do with who the boy was and why he was in the water.

 

Seokmin must have really been going crazy, and if not, the world was so much more of a mystery than he thought it was. 

 

“Are you a mermaid?” he managed to ask despite his doubts. It wasn’t quite the most burning question, but it was hot enough for him to want to spit it out. He was almost certain that the answer would be a  _ no _ since male mermaids weren’t known to exist. They were a mere legend, but he couldn’t think of any other reason that someone would be in the water alone with seemingly no intention to leave it. Why else, unless he was a mermaid? 

 

His thoughts raced to the day before, when he saw a lone mermaid as he was hiking down the mountain with Chan. Did the figure Seokmin see yesterday belong to the boy in front of him now? Question after question cluttered his mind and he had missed the answer that he had asked for just a few seconds prior. He couldn’t blame his thoughts entirely, though. Chan’s yells also contributed to his miss.

 

“Seokmin! I got it!” Chan shouted from a distance away, and Seokmin was brought back to the world he was in before being swept into one too mysterious for him to handle at the moment, and his hands swiftly rummaged through the bag that Chan retrieved.

 

Seokmin paused briefly to look back to the ocean, startled when the person he had seen was no longer there. Thinking about it logically, assuming that he hadn’t been hallucinating under stress, the boy couldn't have been human, right?

 

But he clearly saw the person’s lips form a “no” to his question, even if he couldn’t hear the response. If he wasn’t a mermaid, then he  _ had _ to be human, but all things considered, he couldn’t have been. 

 

What exactly  _ was _ he?  _ Who _ exactly was he? Would he ever know?

 

~~

 

Seokmin let his feet dig into the sand, wiggling his toes in the semi-rough terrain, then lifting them, letting the small pebbles sift through his toes. He was far enough away from the tide that he could sit dry, but close enough to admit to himself that he was waiting on the small chance that perhaps he would meet that mysterious boy again. He couldn’t tell if it was due to curiosity or stubbornness, but he stayed in the same spot, stretching out his legs and leaning back when a wave of exhaustion hit him. There was no good reason for him to have been there when there was no promise that they would meet and when he had to trust in Chan to take over his duties in the palace. He was thankful that Chan was more than happy to have such an opportunity, but he felt guilty about shoving his responsibilities onto the boy for the chance that his likely hallucination was real.

 

At this point, hope and intrigue were compelling reasons enough, more than the rationality that told him to go back, and he waited. He told himself that he would only give himself a day to prove his sanity, or his insanity, more likely. And when the sky was dusted with a pink and orange hue, Seokmin stood up, deciding it was time to give up on the tiny string of hope that ended up being nothing more than an illusion that he thought he could hold onto. It was time for him to return to the reality he knew, return to Chan in their chambers and praise him for taking over his duties for the day, and start preparing an extra special dinner to show his appreciation.

 

Seokmin turned toward the direction of the palace, his back facing the ocean, silently saying his goodbyes to the person that captivated him for just a small moment in his life.

 

“No.”

 

Seokmin’s heart reacted before his mind could, suddenly pounding in anticipation at the voice that came from behind him. He turned quickly, almost losing his footing, stumbling to get a little closer to the shore even as the wet sand chilled his feet, and then the tide was to his ankles, to his calves, then to his thighs. The autumn ocean wasn’t warm and comforting like the summer one, and he felt goosebumps riding up along his body from the sudden temperature change. In contrast, his chest was burning.

 

“You came,” Seokmin sighed in relief, recognizing the enigmatic figure as the same one he saw previously. “You’re real. You’re…”

 

There were so many questions that Seokmin had thought to ask before, but now that the boy in question was in front of him, his mind blanked. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a nervous chuckle came out when he realized that it was odd that they were in the ocean as they were. The boy was much farther in and Seokmin couldn’t tell if the boy could even hear what he was saying, but he heard the boy’s voice clearly. Curiously.

 

“I’m not a mermaid,” was what the boy said. “You asked last time. I didn’t think you heard my answer.”

 

Seokmin hadn’t heard it, but he was able to figure as much. He smiled, wondering if the boy knew that Seokmin would be there and came to make sure his answer was heard.

 

“Do you live in the ocean?”

 

It was the next logical question to have asked. His heart had settled enough that it was no longer a distraction to his thoughts, and his questions were slowly surfacing once again. Why was the boy in the waters? Why unless it was where he lived?

 

The boy nodded. It was an expected response, though it didn’t dull down the mystery one bit.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

The boy glanced sideways, his lips pursing. He was hesitating.

 

“You work for the palace, don’t you?”

 

“How…”

 

Seokmin was somehow uncomfortable with the question, not because of the particular inquiry, but because the question meant that the boy knew more about Seokmin than he let on. He was in too much shock to even finish his question, but the boy understood.

 

“You wear the arm badge of a palace healer,” the boy explained.

 

Seokmin instinctively checked his arm to confirm what he was already aware of, but how had the boy known what the simple blue band symbolized? It was almost as if the boy knew the workings of the kingdom.

 

“What… who are you?”

 

Seokmin almost started to believe that he was in the presence of a high being. A water deity, perhaps. Not a god, since gods lived in mountains, but something else. He could feel the tinglings of nervousness start to pinch him as he wondered if the boy was something he should fear.

 

“My name is Soonyoung. And you?”

 

“Seokmin.” Seokmin swallowed his nervousness. “What exactly are you?”

 

It was Soonyoung’s turn to look surprised. “Aren’t you a palace healer? Shouldn’t you have the knowledge?”

 

Seokmin shook his head. He thought it should have been obvious that he had no clue as to what Soonyoung might have been. “What is that supposed to mean? Am I supposed to know?”

 

Soonyoung ran his hand through his wet hair. Seokmin found his eyes following the hand’s movements.

 

“I thought that they would teach you.”

  
“Who would teach me? Teach me what?”

 

Soonyoung shook his head. “No, it’s better that they didn’t. It’s much better.” He laughed, visibly becoming more cheerful. “I’m a prince. A former prince, actually.”

 

Seokmin widened his eyes. He was talking casually to royalty. Was it fine since he claimed to be former royalty and not current royalty?

 

“Of where, exactly?”

 

“Here, of course.”

 

But where exactly did that mean?

 

“A former prince of the ocean?”

 

“A former prince of the land.”

 

Seokmin couldn’t help but think this strange interrogation was leaving him more confused. Being a prince of the land meant that Soonyoung was a prince of Deorum, but Seokmin, being the palace healer, knew the history and current whereabouts of the royal family, and there was no “Prince Soonyoung” that he knew of. King Junhui and half-prince Mingyu were the only members of the royal family of Deorum as of the present. Who was Soonyoung, really? Seokmin wanted to ask away until his heart was satisfied with all the answers he received, but he had only just begun firing and the day was already coming to an end, his surroundings being engulfed by shadows as the sunlight was fading more and more. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay to quell his curiosity.

 

Soonyoung seemed to notice his bind. He started backing up into the ocean, and if Seokmin hadn’t known he lived there, he would have been concerned. Instead, he was more concerned about if they would meet again.

 

“Prince Soonyoung,” Seokmin called.

 

Soonyoung stopped his stride, attentive to Seokmin’s voice.

 

“I’m not a prince anymore. Soonyoung is fine.”

 

Seokmin cleared his throat. “Soonyoung.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Seokmin asked, the string of hope now a thick rope.

 

“I will. Let’s meet at the same time.

 

It was an hour Seokmin could look forward to without worry. It was a real promise. They would meet again.

 

~~

 

A gentle sunlight filtered through the colored glass windows, illuminating the mahogany shelves filled to the brim with texts and scrolls, knowledge and history. Seokmin tiptoed between the shelves, past the medicinal section he normally occupied, scanning the spines of the books until he found the historical section. He found himself constantly looking over his shoulders to ensure that he was alone, knowing that while he wasn’t doing anything he wasn't supposed to, he was surely doing something strange. What palace healer would be looking for history in the palace library?

 

After he wound up in the right section, it didn’t take him much longer to find the book he was looking for, seeing as the text he wanted had the most lavishly embellished spine, laced in gold and jewels. A swipe of its spine left a clean streak, letting Seokmin know that it was untouched for quite some time, and he wondered for how long. He pulled the book off the shelf, its embellishments contributing to more of its weight than its pages, and opened it carefully.

 

He started from the back, which contained the most recent information. His finger brushed across the page, landing on the current king’s information. Skimming through, there was surprisingly a small section regarding Mingyu, titled the “banished half-prince”. That was right, Seokmin confirmed. Mingyu had been the only banished prince he was aware of, even if only half. Mingyu’s mother was the one who had been banished by the late queen, but when Junhui became king, Junhui had allowed Mingyu and his mother to return under the condition that Mingyu would become his servant. This was a fact known by all the workers of the palace, Chan included. Seokmin himself sometimes found himself at a loss when alone with Mingyu, not sure of whether to treat him as an equal or as a superior.

 

Seokmin flipped the pages backward, searching for older information. He realized he didn’t know how old Soonyoung was, but his age couldn't have been much different from Seokmin’s. However, Seokmin couldn’t find any information on him in the more recent pages. As he flipped the pages more rapidly, skimming as thoroughly as he could, he was struck by the fact that he couldn’t find the smallest hint of Soonyoung’s existence in the royal lineage. He flipped to the beginning, then to the end, and again to all the pages in between, his eyes dry and the book exhausted, but he somehow couldn’t shake the frustrating feeling that maybe he was missing something.

 

He shut the book, wondering if maybe Soonyoung was a prince of another kingdom that he didn’t know of. How likely was it, though, that another kingdom would have such similar royal attire as Deorum’s? He stroked the pages of the closed book, only then noticing a small tab sticking out, his core suddenly filled with panic from the possibility that he ruined the perfect pages of such an important historical book.

 

Swallowing his guilt, he carefully opened to the page, seeing that it wasn’t a crumpled page, but a torn-out one, the torn edge nearly hidden in the binding save for the small corner that stuck out. He bent down to look between his ankles in case the missing page had fallen there, but it was nowhere to be found. He looked back to the binding, the only words he could remind being “Prince Soon-”. Everything about it confused Seokmin even more. Why had there been a page ripped out in the first place? Who would have done such a thing? And why the page that seemed to hold the answers to his questions?

~~

 

Seokmin’s legs were burning more than his lungs as he ran to the beach as quickly as he could manage, running later than his promised time to meet the prince that captured perhaps a bit more than just his curiosity. He cursed himself for not keeping track of time at the library. He should have realized that the missing page of the book of royal lineage wouldn’t have been in the library, but he hadn’t wanted to leave without trying to look for it. Hours later, without any fruit for his labor, he was now only hoping that as the skies were turning pink that Soonyoung would still be at the promised place, even though Seokmin broke the promised time. There was no guarantee that Soonyoung held even half the eagerness Seokmin did, knowing that Seokmin was much less interesting of a person.

 

He expected to be met with disappointment, but as he got closer to the shore, he easily spotted a dark mop of hair in the ocean waiting for him, and when he was close enough to greet him, all that came out of his mouth were exhausted huffs. He hunched over his knees, trying to support his tired body when he no longer had anticipation helping him stand straight. He wanted to offer an apology to Soonyoung, but his body demanded one first.

 

Soonyoung was the one to say something instead.

 

“I didn’t think you’d make it.”

 

Seokmin responded with a wry smile, still unable to utter a voice.

 

“I was hoping you would come.”

 

Seokmin’s heart jumped out as if it wanted to catch Soonyoung’s words to keep. Something warm filled Seokmin’s chest as he realized that he wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

 

“Me too,” Seokmin forced out, deciding to let his legs collapse, laying on his back and spreading his arms out as the stars started shining through the thin clouds. Chan was right. Seokmin really  _ didn’t _ have much endurance. 

 

He sat up, ready to face another round of question and answer, starting with his most burning question. “Why are you always in the sea if you’re not a mermaid? Are you not human?”

 

Soonyoung frowned. “Straight to the point, I see. If you asked me if I was human or not, I would say that I was. But there circumstances that make me not-so-human.”

 

Of course, it wasn’t a straight answer.

 

“Do you think you could explain?”

 

Soonyoung pointed at the lavender sky. “It’s a long story. Do you have time?”

 

Seokmin had been more prepared this time around, knowing that he would have wanted to stay for longer. He nodded.

 

Soonyoung then began, “What do you know about the Chalice of Wisdom?”

 

The Chalice of Wisdom was an item that belonged to the Trio of Gods, placed between Seungcheol’s throne and Jeonghan’s. Its location meant that it was well-guarded, and Seokmin would have wondered why if he hadn’t read about it in a book from the palace library. The Chalice slowly filled with a dark wine — a drop accumulating every year — and every century, the Trio of Gods would each take a sip, renewing their knowledge of the world and the power to protect the kingdom they looked over. The Chalice wasn’t the source of their knowledge, per say, but it provided them with more wisdom than they could gather on their own. It was their most important treasure, and Seokmin considered himself lucky that he would see it every morning.

 

Soonyoung had also read about the Chalice from the books in the palace library, fascinated at the object that could feed him more knowledge than all the books that filled the palace. The older he became, the more his amazement for it grew, realizing that all of his studies only barely scratched the surface of all the information there was to learn. He only wanted to see what it looked like when he requested to accompany the king’s daily hike up the mountain to see the Trio of Gods.

 

“The king?” Seokmin interrupted. “Why did the king have to hike the mountain?”

 

“Before your time, it was not the palace healer, but the king who hiked up the mountain to receive the gods’ knowledge. After my father, that duty was turned over to the palace healer. Did you never wonder why the palace healer went up, only to relay the information to the king?”

 

“I thought it was because the king had more important duties to attend to.”

 

“Yes,” Soonyoung said. “But that wasn’t the main reason. My father and I, we were the reason that things changed.”

 

“But how long ago could that be? Are we talking about the same kingdom? Why don’t I know about any of this?”

 

“Because this all happened about a century ago.”

 

“A century…”

 

Seokmin wanted to ask, but he held his tongue. He would probably find out about it soon enough.

 

The king had allowed Soonyoung to accompany him on his hike the next day before even hearing an explanation as to why he wanted to go in the first place. Soonyoung figured that his father might have assumed he wanted to know what his future duties would be like, as he was the only heir at the time. Soonyoung didn’t feel the need to explain that it was so that he could see the wonder that was the Chalice of Wisdom.

 

When they reached the Garden of the Gods, Soonyoung was marching to the Chalice before the king even had a chance to introduce him to the gods, and Soonyoung had the Chalice in his hands before the gods had a chance to understand what was happening, and Soonyoung was gulping down the contents of the Chalice before anyone had a chance to stop him. At the time, the Chalice wasn’t as closely guarded, which made it that much more possible for someone who shouldn’t have been able to drink from the Chalice to drink from it. And the consequence he faced for it was as shocking as the action he had just done.

 

He couldn’t quite register the next sequence of event s properly, and when he thought back to it, everything happened so quickly. All he remembered was that the next thing he knew, the garden was engulfed in flames and his father was holding him tightly to protect him from it. He could only quiver as he saw a burning rose make contact with his father’s shoulder blade, tears starting to blur his vision. He didn’t have the time to regret what he had done, as he was soon sent flying over a cliff and crashed into the ocean water, his skin struggling to adjust to the change in temperature from being surrounded by flames to being surrounded by water. His muscles went frigid as his last breath exhausted, but finding himself being able to breathe, he could finally hear Seungcheol’s voice ringing in his head saying  _ I banish you from land _ over and over again.

 

“So you weren’t banished from the kingdom, you were banished from land. So you had no choice than to be in the sea,” Seokmin uttered, understanding Soonyoung’s story but in disbelief that there was such a complicated history that he hadn’t heard of until now.

 

“I still have no choice. I’m banished for eternity. That’s why I’m still here even though everyone I know is gone. The gods decided that as my punishment, and for the rest of the royal family, everyone with royal blood would be cursed with a painful mark of their betrayal, and that the pain could only be relieved through the work of a palace healer using the water from the palace fountain.”

 

Seokmin was all too familiar with that particular curse, for it was related to the most important part of his job.

 

“The King’s Curse.”

 

Soonyoung nodded. “Exactly.”

 

“And you’re saying this all happened a century ago?”

 

Soonyoung nodded. “I was forbidden from meeting or talking to anyone on land for an entire century, and now that the century is up, I’m allowed to talk to one person. The gods were feeling merciful when they added that part. Still, I’m glad that person ended up being you.”

 

So there  _ was _ a reason for Soonyoung to look forward to their meeting. Part of Seokmin was happy about that, but more of him was sad. How had Soonyoung endured being alone for so long?

 

Seokmin bit his lip. “So even though you can talk to people now, you’re stuck in the ocean forever? What if you asked for forgiveness? Do you think they would let you on land again? You may have angered them, but that was a century ago. The gods are good. They’ll forgive you now that you received your punishment, right?”

 

Soonyoung scoffed. “The gods are in the mountains, and I’m on the ocean floor. They made it that way on purpose to show the difference between us. And besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve long forgotten about me by now. It  _ has _ been a century.”

 

Seokmin was quick to get on his feet. The sand turned cold as did the night. “I can ask! You won’t be able to climb up a mountain, but I can. I’ll ask for forgiveness in your place!”

 

“I wouldn’t bother.”

 

His shoulders dropped, disappointment dampening his excitement. “Why not?”

 

“Because they know I’m not sorry, just as I know they won’t forgive me. The gods, they aren’t good. They’re just gods.”

 

“So then are you just going to accept being in the ocean forever? Until the end of the world?”

 

“I accepted it a long time ago.”

 

A wave of silence washed over, and Seokmin was suddenly aware of the considerable distance between them. They were speaking to each other while the waves were doing their best to keep them apart, Seokmin staying dry and Soonyoung staying wet. The tide seemed to be separating the two from different worlds. It was a wonder that they were able to hear each other so well, almost as if there were no such space between them.

 

“What is it?” Soonyoung asked, tilting his head to the side when he noticed Seokmin’s confusion.

 

Seokmin shook his head, trying to make sense of it. “Why is it that we can talk like this? Without having to yell?”

 

“Oh, that?” Soonyoung pointed upward. “That’s because winds, they favor me, even if the gods don’t. A lot of the earth’s elements favor me.”

 

“The winds?”

 

Seokmin could then see Soonyoung’s mouth move, and like magic, his whisper was carried to Seokmin’s ear.

 

“We can even do this,” the whisper said. It sent chills down Seokmin’s back and all of a sudden he could feel the blood rush to his face. He was glad it was dark, but it seemed the moonlight favored Soonyoung, too, as it was bright enough that Seokmin didn’t think he could hide his complexion.

 

What surprised him, though, was that he could see that Soonyoung had become flushed, as well.

 

But the moonlight didn’t favor him, so for all he knew, he could have imagined it.

 

~~

 

The hike up the mountain that morning almost seemed like a race at the rate they were going. For the first time, Seokmin wasn’t lagging behind Chan. He was in front, leading the way, and if that wasn’t a sign of Seokmin’s building endurance, he didn’t know what was.

 

“You seem pretty fired up today,” Chan smiled, looking back at the ground they covered. “I think this is the first time we’ve come this far without taking a break. Ever.”

 

Seokmin  _ was _ fired up in some sense. After learning that Soonyoung was banished to the ocean for so long, he wanted to do something to help the prince. A century of solitude was punishment plenty, and Seokmin thought it was time for Soonyoung and the gods to make amends, even if Seokmin was the one who had to make the first move.

 

“I’ve changed, Chan. I’m not as weak as I used to be.”

 

Chan scoffed. “Say that once again once you can carry  _ two _ bags all the way up. They’re not even all that heavy, you know.”

 

Seokmin waved his hand, not wanting to look at Chan’s face, which was most definitely wearing a smug expression.

 

“That sounds like your youth talking. They’ll seem heavy to you once you get my age. Trust me.”

 

“Alright, grandpa Seokmin, why don’t you retire before I have to start carrying  _ you _ up this mountain, too?”

 

Seokmin burst out laughing. “If you’re offering, I would  _ love _ a piggy-back ride.” He faced Chan, walking backwards to do it, and extended his arms as a plea to carry him.

 

“Who said I was offering anything?”

 

Seokmin threw his hand up. “Forgive me, I’ve made the mistake of asking. But if you do offer, I’ll accept any time. Oh-” He was stopped by the mountainous wall that was their destination, surprising himself that he really made it all the way up without stopping. “We’re here.”

 

Once he was given entryway to the Garden of the Gods, all signs of joking disappeared. His smile turned neutral as he approached the gods. That morning was different in that once he had received the gods’ knowledge, he motioned for Chan to leave the garden first.

 

“I’ll be right out,” he assured.

 

Chan didn’t ask any questions. When Seokmin was alone with the gods,  _ he _ did. While he normally kept conversation to a minimum, he only ever asked questions necessary for the benefit of the kingdom. It was the first time he was asking something for personal reasons, and it took him a surprising amount of courage to do so. He cleared his throat.

 

“Do you remember a Prince Soonyoung of Deorum?”

 

Seungcheol’s usually gentle expression turned stiff for just a moment, but not short enough of a moment that Seokmin didn’t catch it. 

 

“Of course, I do. He visited us once a long time ago with his father. It was the first and last time he visited since he ended up betraying us.”

 

Seokmin knew that much. He knew what Soonyoung had done back then was wrong.

 

“He’s still in the ocean now. He can’t go on land even though it’s been a century.”

 

“We know,” Jeonghan chimed in. “That was the punishment we decided for him.”

 

“But,” Seokmin breathed in. “don’t you think a thousand years is a long enough time to reflect on your mistakes? I’m sure he would come up to ask for forgiveness himself if he was allowed on land! Why don’t you give him the chance-”

 

“Healer,” Seungcheol interrupted. “Let me ask you something. What price would you put on a rich amount of knowledge that you can’t find even in the most well-endowed of libraries? An almost infinite amount of knowledge.”

 

Seokmin gulped. He wondered if he was being tested or if the question was rhetorical. There was a pause, which told him that the god expected a verbal answer of some sort. His veins ran hot from his nervousness, and he almost wished he was the one in the ocean so he could cool himself down.

 

“I couldn’t put a price on that. That kind of knowledge would be invaluable.”

 

Seungcheol nodded gently.

 

“Soonyoung stole from us just that. An invaluable amount of knowledge that no amount of riches could buy. He was a mere human. He should never have even  _ touched _ the Chalice, but we were merciful in that we let both him and his father live, though their lives from then on were cursed.”

 

Seokmin was unable to refute what the god told him, and he was unable to argue any further. The gods weren’t wrong, but somehow, their argument didn’t feel right either, though Seokmin didn’t know quite how to word it.

 

“Is there anything he could do for your forgiveness? Anything at all?”

 

Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan, then at Jisoo, both of which looked back with no expression. He returned his gaze to Seokmin.

 

“I can’t say that there is, healer.”

 

~~

 

“Is there something wrong, Seokmin? You seem pretty quiet today.”

 

Seokmin made a strange grunt in response when he tried acting as usual but had nothing to say. He then realized that the cursed floral mark had already started withering and that the healing ritual should have been done since a while ago. He took a breath and debated on asking the king for advice or not, almost leaning toward not. But Junhui’s eyes were keener than usual. Or maybe it was Seokmin who was strange. Either way, he didn’t think he could hide his troubles. 

 

“Do you know anything about the former Prince Soonyoung of Deorum?”

 

Junhui’s jaw dropped, but his mouth closed as quickly as it opened. He waved Chan and Mingyu away, saying he wanted to speak to Seokmin privately, and when the doors to his chambers clicked shut, he turned to face the healer, both hands on Seokmin’s shoulders, positioned for interrogation.

 

“Where did you hear that name? And that title?”

 

Seokmin raised a brow.

 

“Do you know him, your highness?”

 

“Well, not personally. I only know him from stories” Junhui clarified. “But I do know of him.”

 

Seokmin picked up the king’s garments from the chair they were on and started dressing him as he knew how, taking care to put little pressure on his shoulder blade, knowing the cursed floral mark was still tender. He watched Mingyu do this enough times.

 

“Stories?”

 

Junhui stretched out his arm as Seokmin inserted a sleeve.

 

“They're… children’s stories, but ones without a happy ending. Fables, you might call them. The one about prince Soonyoung, it’s a story about how a young prince’s greed for knowledge almost destroys a kingdom. The entire kingdom almost burned down because of it, but the gods saved Deorum with their powers. It’s a Pourquoi story about the existence of the King’s Curse. Children of the royal family are told these stories, but only once they’re of age are they told that the stories are real. That’s why I know that Soonyoung, even though I’ve never seen him myself, he exists somewhere near Deorum. We are warned to stay away from him if we happen to see him because his powerful greed can taint those who speak to him.”

 

Junhui fixed his collar after Seokmin finished buttoning him up, but Seokmin didn’t blame him. He knew he did a mediocre job at dressing him.

 

“But what if he’s changed? It would have been a long time ago that this happened, right? Isn’t it sad to be all alone in the ocean with no one to talk to for so long?”

 

Junhui’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a good reason he’s alone. You can’t trust that he’s changed. You can only trust that you won’t change if you don’t see him. I can’t risk being affected by his greed, and neither should you. It was the will of the gods for him to be banished from land, and regardless of if he’s changed or not, the gods will likely  _ not _ be pleased if someone from the kingdom spoke to Soonyoung. I don’t want anyone going near him if he ever shows up. Especially not you, Seokmin. I can’t have you get yourself in danger by angering the gods.”

 

It was too late, Seokmin had already spoken to Soonyoung on multiple occasions. And it was too late to stop himself from wanting to talk to him again.

 

“Where did you hear his name, anyway?” Junhui asked after examining his appearance. “You can’t have picked it up from just anywhere.”

 

“There was a page in the book of royal lineage,” Seokmin said too quickly.

 

“Is that so?” Junhui muttered, hand on the door ready to call Mingyu back in, the topic vanishing as quickly as it was brought up.

 

Seokmin bit his lip. He hadn’t lied, but his heart felt heavy.

 

~~

 

“Is there something on your mind, Seokmin?”

 

Seokmin let the waves reach his feet today, letting the cold water numb his toes to mimic the numbness of his head. He felt like he had a lot of thoughts flying through his mind but when he tried to pinpoint any one thing he was thinking about, he couldn’t catch a single one.

 

“I don’t know,” was the resulting answer.

 

Soonyoung reached for Seokmin, but the two were too far apart for them to make contact. Seokmin stood up and mindlessly walked into the water, drawing closer to Soonyoung to let the prince touch his forehead. Soonyoung’s hands were cold, like the ocean, but Seokmin felt his chest warming up from his touch.

 

“You’re warm.”

 

Seokmin put his hand to his forehead to confirm it, but his temperature seemed normal.

 

“I don’t know why I just did that,” Soonyoung laughed. “It’s been so long since I’ve touched anyone. How would I know if you were having a fever?”

 

Seokmin smiled meekly. Soonyoung’s laughs surprisingly lifted a lot of weight from his shoulders.

 

“I’m not sick, don’t worry. What kind of palace healer would I be if I couldn’t tell that much?”

 

Soonyoung frowned. “It’s different when you’re treating someone else. When it comes to yourself, you try to put up with so much that sometimes you don’t even realize that you’re hurt.”

 

Seokmin wondered if this was knowledge speaking, or if it was experience.

 

“I promise I’m not sick. I’m just…” He shrugged. “I thinking about a lot of things.”

 

“I have a lot of time on my hands, Seokmin. An eternity, just about,” Soonyoung scoffed. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

 

Seokmin told him what he had heard from the gods and what he had heard from the king. It frustrated him that they spoke of Soonyoung as if he was evil when Seokmin could tell he wasn’t. It was so  _ clear _ to him that Soonyoung was being misunderstood, but no one would stop to listen. But it frustrated him even more that Seokmin wasn’t able to defend him. His frustrations came out in a shaking voice and hot tears, and he apologized for not being able to say anything back. He wanted to help Soonyoung, but all he did was save himself from the wrath that might have come from defiance. He swore he believed Soonyoung, and he swore that he really wanted to help him out, but he couldn’t help but sound unconvincing when he was sobbing.

 

Soonyoung wiped away his tears, but Seokmin’s face didn’t get any drier. He had his wet ocean hands to thank for that.

 

“It’s okay, Seokmin. You didn’t break any promises. I don’t expect anyone to see me in a good light, and honestly, I’m thankful that at least you do. I  _ did _ commit a sin, really. A grave one at that. I stole something important from the gods, something that they can’t just take back, which lead to the royal family being cursed. Of course they would all think badly of me.”

 

Seokmin shook his head. It didn’t feel good when Soonyoung was talking about himself in such a way.

 

“But why did you do it? Did you not think you would regret it?”

 

Soonyoung let out a breath. “In some ways I regret it, and in some ways, I don’t. Sure I was separated from everyone and everything I knew, but what I know about the world now? I would never have been able to get this kind of information if I dedicated my whole life to trying to find it. And besides,” Soonyoung said as he brushed Seokmin’s cheek again, only making it wetter. “I would never have dreamed that anyone would cry for me after it happened, but here you are. Here we are.”

 

Seokmin only wished the gods were this forgiving. Their anger was to be expected, but their long grudge was unfair.

 

“I want you to be free. On land. It would make me really happy if you were. Maybe if I talk to King Junhui, he’ll talk to you, get to know that you’re not as evil as the stories say. Maybe he has the power to do something.”

 

“Junhui, huh? Is that what the current king’s name is?”

 

Seokmin grasped the prince’s hands. “Soonyoung, please don’t change the subject. Let me help you. Or at least, let me try.”

 

“The King’s Curse isn’t what you think it is.”

 

Seokmin knew it was bait but it was one that was hard to resist. He gave in, but he wouldn’t forget to bring the topic up again later.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What if I told you that the way you heal the King’s Curse is actually what prolongs it?”

 

“The way I heal it,” Seokmin’s grip loosened and Soonyoung’s hands dropped back into the water. “Prolongs it?”

 

“The gods weren’t as merciful as they claim. The water from the palace fountain? It might relieve pain temporarily, but the flower just goes dormant. The water from the fountain is what feeds it, which is why it revives after dawn. It’s a living curse. All you have to do is cut off its food supply and it’ll die off.”

 

Seokmin blinked several times as if it would clear his ears because the prince wasn’t making any sense to him.

 

“What are you saying? I’m feeding the floral mark? How would you know? My method has been working for as long as the books date back! It’s what every palace healer before me did! It can’t be wrong!”

 

“But it is. The gods were lying about the mark. You’re cursing yourselves, and all the gods had to do to keep the curse alive is by giving the palace healers faulty instructions on how to heal it.”

 

Seokmin let it sink in.

 

“Then what are you saying is the right way to heal it?”

 

“Leave it be. No matter how painful the mark becomes, the king must endure it until it passes, and then he will be free from the curse.”

 

“Pain? Is it painful?”

 

Soonyoung nodded. “When the floral mark is dying, it releases a burning pain to the host.”

 

“And how long is it supposed to take for it to go away for good?”

 

“Five days. The king would have to endure the pain for five days.”

 

Seokmin shook his head. “But how am I supposed to believe that? You’re defying knowledge that’s been passed down for generations, and the curse wouldn’t have even existed in your time!”

 

“Remember I drank from the Chalice of Wisdom?”

 

Seokmin remained silent.

 

“The knowledge I gained from it was not instantaneous. Over time I found myself learning more and more about the world, even if I was far from interacting with anyone or anything that could have given me that knowledge. It didn’t take me long to find out the truth about the curse.”

 

“Should I trust you?” Seokmin asked cautiously.

 

“I have no reason to deceive you.”

 

“But should I  _ trust _ you?”

 

Soonyoung placed his hand on Seokmin’s chest. “That’s something you have to ask yourself  _ here _ . You can tell yourself what you want, but you can’t control what you feel. If you trust me, you trust me, and if you don’t, you don’t. There doesn’t have to be a reason behind it. It doesn’t change anything for me, but you have to trust yourself first.”

 

“Is that also something you learned from the Chalice?”

 

“No,” Soonyoung said softly. He took his hand from Seokmin’s chest to put it over his own like he was half-heartedly trying to stop it from bleeding. “There are some things you have to learn from experience.”

 

Seokmin wanted to tell him not to go when he started backing deeper and deeper into the sea, but after questioning who to trust, he couldn’t help but to watch sorrowfully as Soonyoung disappeared into the lonely world of the waters.

 

~~

 

Seokmin was flipping through his book of herbs and could see from his peripheral vision Chan’s head bobbing down then up then down again from searching the forest floor for a particular kind of mushroom. Seeing how often Chan went down to search another spot, he must not have had any luck.

 

“How sure are you that we’re going to find any cordyceps here? I swear if looked under every tree in the area.”

 

“Don’t you remember the last season we came? They were definitely here. Definitely.”

 

Chan got up to pat the dirt and leaves from his knees. “I know, I remember, but why can’t we find any?”

 

“I don’t know,” Seokmin replied sullenly. “Maybe an epidemic wiped them out…”

 

“We can’t have that,” Chan went down on his knees again, brushing aside the sun-colored leaves from a tree’s roots. “Not with mermaid season coming.”

 

“I know,” Seokmin whispered, getting on the ground himself, searching thoroughly. Cordyceps were usually not so extremely difficult to find, but neither Seokmin or Chan had been able to dig up a single one. With cordyceps being the only known cure for mermaid mania — mermaid mania was a side effect of people being exposed to mermaid song and resulted in restricted blood flow to the brain, which made it easier for the beasts to captivate humans — and mermaid season just around the corner, the palace needed plenty of cordyceps in stock.

 

“Do you think we should ask the gods for help?” Chan suggested suddenly.

 

After Seokmin had time to think about what Soonyoung said about the Trio of Gods, he started to question even them. He found himself feeling guilty but when both sides seemed doubtful of each other, he couldn’t say that he trusted either Soonyoung or the gods. Not at this time. Not yet.

 

“What can the gods do?”

 

“They might be able to do something, all we have to do is ask,” said Chan with much more optimism in his voice than Seokmin had.

 

But Seokmin knew Chan was right. Even if the gods weren’t able to do anything, there was no harm in asking. He was thinking about it too much, and if he had someone to talk about his recent encounters with, he might not have felt so jumbled.

 

“Hey, Chan,” Seokmin asked as he carefully swept the fallen leaves from a different tree root. “What would you do if there was the possibility that something you’ve been doing for so long has been wrong?”

 

Chan tilted his head to the side. “The possibility of… what? Is there something wrong?” He wiped his hands on his pants and closed in on Seokmin, studying his expression with worried eyes. 

 

“No,” Seokmin said. “I mean, hypothetically. Say you always believed in a certain method that always seemed to work, but one day, someone tells you that you’ve been wrong all your life. What would you do?”

 

“Seokmin, what are you trying to say?” Chan asked with his full attention on his mentor.

 

When Seokmin averted his eyes, Chan followed, keeping himself in Seokmin’s field of vision. It was a short cat and mouse chase, and Chan caught Seokmin by the tail as he said, “You’re being very vague about something that seems to be about something very specific.”

 

Seokmin took a deep breath to calm himself when he realized his heart was beating wildly. He didn’t want to lie to Chan, but the truth sounded crazier than any lie he could have come up with.

 

But he had faith Chan would believe him, and when Seokmin was done explaining what he had seen and heard the past few days, all while they searched with no avail for the cordyceps they so needed, he was relieved that Chan listened to the very end. He then asked for Chan’s advice.

 

“What should I do about the king and the curse? Do I listen to Soonyoung leave it be? What if the pain becomes too much for him to handle? Or worse, what if Soonyoung is wrong? What if the king dies?”

 

“Whoa, Seokmin you’re asking too many ‘what if’s here. We don’t know what’s really going to happen, but let’s talk about this, okay?”

 

Seokmin nodded, calming himself down. “Okay.”

 

“First off, this is the king we’re talking about.  _ The _ king. Don’t you think  _ he _ should be making that kind of decision? If he could die, he would want to know about it, right? So why not discuss it with him first?”

 

“That… yeah, you’re right… But he would  _ never _ agree to leave the cursed mark be if he knew that  _ Soonyoung _ was the one who suggested it. He already has the idea in his head that Soonyoung is an evil prince. He doesn’t  _ know _ what I know about him. He hasn’t talked to him and he doesn’t have any plans to, ever.”

 

“But that prince could be evil.” Chan tested.

 

Seokmin rubbed at his brow, the in his palm gritty against his skin.

 

“He could be, yes, but I really don’t think he is, Chan.”

 

“But do you have anything to prove that?”

 

“No,” Seokmin said, realizing that despite not knowing Soonyoung for long and despite how short their time had been together, he already trusted him more than he would have liked to admit. “But I  _ feel _ it. I just  _ feel _ like he’s telling the truth, and everything in my gut just tells me to trust him.”

 

Chan crossed his arms. “And how does that compare to your trust in the gods?”

 

“ _ That _ was the entire reason for my hypothetical question. I knew to trust the gods all my life, but my heart, no, my  _ soul _ is telling me to trust Soonyoung. How am I supposed to explain it? I can’t. I just trust him.”

 

Chan bit his lip, eyes pointed to the sky as if it would give him answers. His fingers tapped against his arm, and with the beat of every tap, Seokmin could feel tension build up in his shoulders. Finally, when Chan sighed and throw down his arms, Seokmin’s heart stopped. Then, when Chan looked up with a yielding smile, Seokmin could see all the colors in the world again, only now realizing that they had become monochromatic.

 

“I trust you, and if you think that it’s a good idea to stop treating King Junhui like you’ve been, then I’ll help you think of how to convince him to agree.”

 

Seokmin wanted to kiss Chan’s hands and would have if they hadn’t been covered in dirt, so he did what was the second best option, which was to ruffle his hair with his own dirt-covered hands, laughing when Chan protested and still laughing when Chan did the very same action to him until the both of them were covered in dirt from head to toe, still without the cordyceps they had been looking for, but instead with the optimism that things will be just fine.

 

~~

 

It seemed Seokmin knew of nothing but the feeling of nervousness these days, as he hid his trembling hands with a fist and hoped neither Junhui nor Mingyu would notice as he was offering to them the fabricated story of how the Trio of Gods decided to put an end to the King’s Curse. Junhui nodded along when Seokmin explained that Junhui would have to endure five days of extreme pain in order to be free from the curse, but Mingyu listened without a change in his expression.

 

Seokmin was running out of story to tell and hoping that Junhui would agree before he reached the end, as he could feel himself becoming less and less convincing as he rambled.

 

“You don’t have to go through with it!” Chan interjected despite Seokmin’s incredulous gaze at him. After Chan agreed to help Seokmin convince Junhui, what was he doing opposing his idea?

 

Seokmin raised his eyebrows, then scrunched them, in hopes to communicate with Chan, but Chan didn’t meet Seokmin’s eyes, and any message that Seokmin was trying to silently pass was lost.

 

“But I think it’s a good idea,” Seokmin said, trying to steer the discussion to his end-goal. Hopefully, Chan picked up his hint.

 

“But you don’t have to.”

 

Junhui glanced over at Mingyu and Mingyu glanced at Junhui, and then Junhui at Seokmin and Seokmin at Mingyu and then all three at Chan.

 

“What I mean is,” Chan continued after no one said anything. “You could try it, but if the pain gets too much for you before the five days are over, we can have Seokmin use the normal treatment method right away. It would mean you would still have the curse, but at least that way you at least tried, right?”

 

The exchange of glances happened again between Junhui and Mingyu while Seokmin and Chan looked at each other. If only these glances could reveal what everyone was thinking.

 

“Okay,” Junhui said abruptly. “There’s no harm in trying, right? And it would be shameful of me to not go through such pain for the sake of the royal family.”

 

“But, sir, this could be dangerous. We can’t have your life at risk for a chance,” Mingyu said.

 

Junhui turned to Seokmin. “Is it dangerous?”

 

“I…” Seokmin lowered his head. “I don’t know.”

 

“Well, it’s not like the gods would suggest this without warning us of the dangers.”

 

Seokmin winced. “Of course, not.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Seokmin saw Mingyu squint in suspicion but hoped he wouldn’t say anything to the king.

 

“I need some time to prepare myself, but I’ll do it. I just need to be ready to endure the pain, but if this will save me and the future generations of the royal family to come, then I’ll do it. That’s the best route to take, right?”

 

Junhui looked over at Mingyu.

 

“Right?”

 

Mingyu lowered his head. “It’s your decision, sir.”

 

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” Junhui’s expression darkened as if he just then realized the consequence of his decision. He waved his hand to dismiss the healer as he sank down in his seat.

 

Seokmin whispered his thanks and quickly ushered himself out with Chan, escaping Mingyu’s suffocating glare.

 

“Do you think it’ll be okay?” Seokmin asked Chan once they were in the palace courtyard. He took a quick glance backward from the small fear that Mingyu might have been following them, but turned back front in relief when the servant was nowhere to be seen.

 

“I hope so.”

 

Seokmin look back, once again, just to check. Just in case.

 

“Was that part of your plan, though? To get the king to agree with me?”

 

“In a way. But, I wanted to ask you something. Did.. um, Prince Soonyoung, did he say anything about danger?”

 

“He didn’t mention, but I didn’t ask. Should I?”

 

Chan sighed. “Maybe you should. I feel like we’ve committed treason by lying to King Junhui.”

 

“But what do we do if it  _ is _ dangerous? Should we tell Junhui it’s a bad idea?”

 

“Well, maybe we should have looked more into it before suggesting it to him.” Chan ruffled his hair. “Even if we change our minds, King Junhui won’t. If he thinks this will benefit the royal family, he’s not going to back down.”

 

“You’re right,” Seokmin admitted with a sigh. They went into the plan too quickly. “What should we do?”

 

Chan ran in front and swiveled his body to face Seokmin, his expression serious with a slither of fright.

 

“We have to make sure we know what we’re doing. We have to ask.”

 

~~

 

To play it safe, Seokmin decided to ask the gods first. 

 

“Is there any way of getting rid of the King’s curse?” Seokmin asked as innocently as he could. He only hoped that they had an answer like he was expecting.

 

“Why do you ask, healer?” Seungcheol inquired.

 

Seokmin cleared his throat. Something seemed to be stuck there and he could only guess that it was intimidation.

 

“Now that I know how the curse came to be, I just thought that there should be a way to reverse it.”

 

“It’s nearly impossible,” Jisoo said when Seungcheol hesitated. “Even if we told you how-”

 

“The palace fountain breaks the curse temporarily,” said Jeonghan. “That was our way of giving the royal family freedom from the curse. Our powers are not as strong as they used to be, so we would not be able to reverse the curse ourselves.”

 

If Soonyoung’s explanation of the fountain prolonging the curse was right, then, of course, they wouldn't admit it. However, if Soonyoung was the one lying… 

 

“Will the king die if I am not there to heal him?”

 

“No,” Seungcheol said. “But he will be in terrible pain that no human can handle. It’s why we took pity and granted the palace healer the power to lessen the pain.”

 

There it was, the explanation that Soonyoung said they would give. Their words were starting to match Soonyoung’s story as Seokmin’s faith for him was starting to solidify. He only had one more thing to ask the gods.

 

“We need cordyceps, but the forest we usually get them doesn’t seem to have any this year.” Seokmin glanced at Chan as Chan nodded in encouragement. “Is there any way you can help us?”

 

Seungcheol rubbed at his chin. “Cordyceps? We can prompt growth, but they may not come in until after mermaid season is over. Perhaps you can ask for some from the next town over?”

 

“Thank you,” Seokmin said. Though truly gratuitous for their help for at least the next year, Seokmin couldn’t help but be disappointed that they could not do anything for the current one. Of course, he couldn’t have expected a miracle cure, but he wondered how he would survive the outbreak. He couldn’t quite focus on what the gods were telling him. He didn’t doubt they were feeding him important information, but with mermaid season just around the corner, Seokmin had something a little more urgent he had to worry about.

 

He hoped that mermaid mania would be mild this year.

 

~~

 

“Somehow I feel like you’re always thinking about something else when we’re together.” Soonyoung tilted his head. “Am I not interesting enough to keep your attention?” He joked.

 

Seokmin was crouched down drawing circles in the wet sand, letting the icy ocean graze his bottom when it came to wash his art away.

 

“Sorry, a lot has been happening.”

 

“Don’t be,” Soonyoung said with more sincerity. “I’m glad you’re here. You know I’ve been talking to nothing but sea turtles and starfish for the last century? It’s nice that I’m able to have a real conversation with something that can actually talk back.”

 

Seokmin stood up and walked into the sea until he was wet to his waist and Soonyoung was close. 

 

“Is talking really enough? Don’t you want to be able to do more? Don’t you want to be able to touch?”

 

He ruffled Soonyoung’s hair much like he would Chan’s, but Soonyoung’s reaction wasn’t what he expected. A pretty pink decorated Soonyoung’s cheeks as he looked down at the waters, quite obviously biting his lips. Seokmin felt his chest warming up the winter ocean surrounding them, and he couldn’t help but look at Soonyoung in hopes that he would look at Seokmin. Seokmin’s ruffles turned into strokes and when Soonyoung finally looked up, his eyes quivered from looking at Seokmin’s eyes.

 

“Why are you so concerned over me? I told you I was fine. As long as you keep visiting me, I’ll be happy. This much is still a privilege to me.”

 

Taking Soonyoung’s cold cheeks into his hands, Seokmin was compelled to really look at the prince, how his dark wet locks of hair looked surprisingly tame, how his sharp eyes were shining, how his supple cheeks were slightly squished under his palms, how his lips were pink and plump like ripe fruit ready for picking, and how, if Seokmin wasn’t wrong, he looked as if he wanted Seokmin as much as Seokmin wanted him.

 

“What if I told you I wanted you to be free from the ocean so that I could see you more? That I want it for myself more than I want it for you?”

 

Soonyoung’s eyes wavered as he lightly pushed him away. “Seokmin, you know that’s not possible. The gods would never allow it.”

 

Seokmin tried not to let the defeat show on his face. “You can’t say that without trying.”

 

Soonyoung shook his head, refusing to meet Seokmin’s eyes. “No Seokmin, you don’t understand I’ve known the gods a lot longer than you have. Their true colors start showing after about a hundred years or so, and I’ve known them for at  _ least  _ several hundred.” 

 

A chuckle escaped Seokmin’s lips. “So I won’t know your true character unless I stick around for another hundred years or so, huh?”

 

“Guess you’ll just have to see me for that long.”

 

Soonyoung smiled and Seokmin could feel everything in his mind fall into place like a simple smile could solve all the world’s problems. Or, almost all. Seokmin suddenly remembered something.

 

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to know of how I can get ahold of some cordyceps for mermaid mania, do you?”

 

~~

 

“Ugh, Seokmin, are you sure about this? I don’t like this one bit,” Chan said while plugging his nose, wearing a rather sour expression. “No one comes to the ginkgo forest for good reason. What makes you so sure that this won’t be poisonous?”

 

Seokmin was getting desperate. The next town over could only afford to give them enough cordyceps for five treatments. They have their own to treat, they told Seokmin, which was completely understandable, but it left Deorum’s people in trouble. That morning, the first case of mermaid mania came in, and it was a fisherman who had been the first to see the mermaids. He looked absolutely delusional, swaying back and forth and giggling to himself as his worried wife and brother hauled him into the palace. When Seokmin gave the fisherman one of the few doses of cordyceps he had, the door swung open and another person was hauled in, and Seokmin could only hope that he would have enough cordyceps to last the remainder of the day.

 

“I don’t love the idea either,” Seokmin gasped out, almost gagging from the awful putrid smell of the forest, “but we need treatments for mermaid mania, and this is the only option we have.”

 

“But it smells horrible and  _ dangerous _ ,” Chan protested.

 

“Which is exactly why no one’s ever used it for anything,” Seokmin refuted, only plucking fruits that were low enough for him to reach. “But poison doesn’t have to smell bad and medicine doesn't have to smell good.”

 

Chan slumped his shoulders and started to pluck the plump yellow fruit alongside Seokmin. “You’re right. And if this is really a cure, then I guess we better get used to the scent.”

 

“Who knows, maybe it’ll work better than cordyceps.”

 

Though he said it out of optimism, Seokmin’s words ended up containing the truth, and when they fed crushed ginkgo biloba seeds to the victims of mermaid mania, the patients started regaining their rationality in less than an hour when with cordyceps it would have taken three. Thankfully the patients were too delusional to notice the smell of the medicine they were being fed, and with the new knowledge of a cure for the inevitable, Seokmin was glad to have trusted Soonyoung. If only Soonyoung could see the results of his suggestion.

 

More and more, he found himself wanting Soonyoung by his side. He wanted Soonyoung to be able to be with him on  _ land _ . To Soonyoung it might have seemed impossible, but optimism had been treating Seokmin well recently, and he didn’t want to quit before trying.

 

All he had to do was ask the gods.

 

~~

 

Seokmin found himself telling Chan to wait by the entrance of the Garden of the Gods while he himself sat on his knees. His morning conferences with the gods were never particularly easy, but it seemed with every passing day it became harder. With topics that demanded more thought and hesitation before asking, Seokmin’s hands were clenched tightly. 

 

“And what is it you seek?” Seungcheol asked, running Seokmin out of his hiding hole.

 

“I seek your forgiveness!” Seokmin blurted out. 

 

The gods exchanged confused glances, but before they could ask, Seokmin clarified.

 

“I seek your forgiveness to the banished Prince Soonyoung,” he said more meekly.

 

Jeonghan waved his hand. “There’s no reason for us to forgive him. He knows the sin he’s committed and he knows he has to spend the rest of his life compensating for it.”

 

“But he’s spent many lifetimes compensating for it,” Seokmin refuted gently.

 

Jisoo sat up straighter in his throne. “But you see, he can never truly make up for it because we can never get back what he stole from us, no matter how hard we try. We may have powers, but our powers have limits.”

 

Seokmin felt discouraged, but when he thought of Soonyoung and how freeing it would be for him to be able to step foot on land again, he breathed in deeply, gathering strength.

 

“I’ll do anything for that forgiveness. Please lift Prince Soonyoung’s banishment!”

 

Silence filled the air and a knot filled his stomach. Had he been too ambitious?

 

Seungcheol tilted his head. “Anything?”

 

Seokmin powered through. “Anything in my power.”

 

“He seems pretty serious,” Jeonghan said, directed at no one in particular. Then, to Seungcheol, “Why don’t you ask for that thing?”

 

Seungcheol’s expression lifted. He was nipping at the bait. Seokmin tried to encourage the god a bit more.

 

“If I can get it for you, I will. I give you my word.”

 

“Hmm,” Seungcheol considered. He looked at Jeonghan, who nodded, and then at Jisoo, who shrugged. “Then why don’t you fetch the seeing stone from that owl for me?”

 

The deal had been set. If Seokmin brought the seeing stone to the gods, then the gods would lift Soonyoung’s banishment. The seeing stone belonged to the Speaking Owl, and not much was known about it other than that it was dazzlingly beautiful. It was one of the many treasures that the Speaking Owl owned, but unlike most of its treasures, it was one of its kind. That was what Seokmin had to retrieve. An almost impossible prize to lift an almost impossible curse.

 

The only problem was that the Speaking Owl was a day’s journey, and Junhui wasn’t too keen on the idea of Seokmin being so far from the palace for such a time.

 

“I only need three days at most,” Seokmin explained. 

 

“Three days is a long time without a palace healer,” Junhui refuted.

 

“Chan will be here. He knows everything he needs to know to be a fully-functioning palace healer on his own.”

 

“That may be true, but-”

 

“It might be a good time to try cutting out your daily healing ritual.”

 

Seokmin realized too late that the determination may have made him cross the line and he was suddenly afraid of watching for Junhui’s reaction. The silence that followed was thin and in danger of crumbling, or was it Seokmin that was crumbling? His jaw was heavy and he couldn’t swallow the tension and instead waited for a response.

 

Junhui sighed, melting the frigid air and the stiffness in Seokmin’s shoulders.

 

“It’s not really Chan or the palace or even me that I’m worried about. It’s  _ you _ . What would I do if something happened to you out there? What if there are beasts in the area that sneak up on you while you’re gathering your herbs?”

 

Ah, right. Herbs. Seokmin had momentarily forgotten that he used herbs as an excuse for his trip. Otherwise, he would have had to reveal the truth about how he had been meeting Soonyoung.

 

“I’m not all that horrible with my sword, sir. I would like to think I can defend myself from beasts.”

 

“No,” Junhui said with a shake of his head. “I can’t let you do that. I’ll have Mingyu come with you.”

 

“But sir-”

 

“Do you have an objection?”

 

Seokmin couldn’t deny the king’s commands, especially when he knew the king wouldn’t change his mind about it. It would be easier to give in early. “No.”

 

“Good. Then let me know when you plan to depart so I can have Mingyu be ready.”

 

“... Yes, sir.”

 

~~

 

A sturdy dark horse whipped its tail at a fly before shaking its mane with a gruff neigh. It then lowered its head to pick at the feast of fresh grass in front of it, seemingly unphased as a heavy saddle was plopped onto its back. It heaved in a breath of air as the girth was being tightened, holding its breath even as the other side was tightened, and only let it out when the tightening was finished.

 

Seokmin tightened the girth once more on both sides now that the stallion had breathed out to become a more normal size.

 

“Is it really okay to leave without saying goodbye to Soonyoung?” Chan asked as he handed Seokmin a bag full of supplies.

 

Seokmin tied that bag onto one side of the saddle, unskillfully knotting the thick ropes that he wasn’t used to handling.

 

“It’s not that I want to leave without letting him know, but if I meet him, he’s going to find out why I’m leaving in the first place.”

 

Chan had another bag ready in his hands but waited for Seokmin to finish securing the first one.

 

“What’s wrong with him knowing? You’re doing this for his sake, aren’t you?”

 

Seokmin wiped off the sweat that built-up on his forehead as he finally took the second bag from Chan’s hands. 

 

“I have a feeling he would tell me not to go. He’d say that ‘it’s impossible’ or ‘it’s not worth it’ or something like that.”

 

With the third bag, Chan went on the other side of the saddle to tie it up himself. Smart. They would finish faster this way.

 

“But what if it  _ is _ impossible? From what I hear, the Speaking Owl doesn’t take requests from  _ anyone _ . I doubt you’re going to be that special case.”

 

Seokmin turned to grab another bag to find that in the time he was securing the second bag, Chan had finished securing the rest. Maybe Chan was just good at everything. Maybe Seokmin should have Chan cook their meals from now on.

 

“I didn’t think the  _ gods  _ would take my request either, but here we are, packing for a journey so I can bring my part of the deal I made with the gods.” Seokmin gave the horse a good pat, then turned to look Chan in the eyes. “I just… I can’t give up without trying.”

 

There was a tense moment. The tension was minimal, but it was there, and Seokmin was almost scared that he might have angered Chan for trying something so futile for someone else’s sake. For someone he only knew for a short time.

 

“I know,” Chan finally gave in, easing the tension. “Just… be careful, okay? Don’t let this become some long string of requests where you’ll just have to keep traveling farther and farther until you can’t come back anymore.”

 

Chan’s voice wavered ever so slightly with those last few words, urging Seokmin to instinctively take Chan into his arms, squeezing him as tightly as he could without suffocating him. He then took off his arm-band — the one that indicated that he was a palace healer —and tied it around Chan’s arm.

 

“While I’m gone, take good care of the palace, okay?”

 

Chan nodded. “You can count on me.”

 

Seokmin heaved himself onto the horse and bid Chan one last goodbye. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

 

He wondered if his promise was strong enough to keep.

 

~~

 

Seokmin had never spent long periods of time together with Mingyu, and looking back at his history, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had spent any time alone with him at all. The air between them was only filled by the clops of horseshoes making contact with the ground. Seokmin referred to his map so many times that he had long memorized the path to his destination, but he found himself looking at it again to give himself something to do, since talking with Mingyu seemed to be too difficult of a task to attempt. He was surprised when Mingyu spoke first.

 

“Was it really the gods that told you about how to cure the King’s curse?”

 

Of all the ways to spark up a conversation, that certainly wasn’t the most ideal. Especially when the answer could only lead Seokmin to trouble. He was faced with a decision to lie, tell the truth, or avoid the question. In the heat of the moment, he refuted the question with another question that unfortunately didn’t steer the conversation away from the topic like he had planned.

 

“Who else could it be?”

 

“I guess it couldn’t be anyone else, right?” Mingyu replied, almost seeming to convince himself so Seokmin didn’t have to. “I just find it a bit strange that they would suddenly tell you about it. Why would they tell Junhui of all the past kings? Why would they tell you of all the past palace healers? Unless you asked, that is. But then that would make it strange that you would suddenly ask after all these years of treating the curse.”

 

Seokmin heard something in Mingyu’s questions that were more than just questions. What he heard was doubt towards either him or the gods.

 

“You don’t…” Seokmin hesitated. It wasn’t as if he was going to accuse Mingyu of treason, but it very much felt like he was. “You don’t have something against the gods, do you?”

 

Mingyu jeered. “It’s just strange. You’re strange.”

 

Seokmin studied Mingyu’s expression in the same way that Mingyu seemed to be studying his, and he had a strong feeling that they knew the other was hiding something. The question was, who would fall victim to the pressure and spill their secrets first?

 

It turned out, neither. The bulk of their journey was in silence, and whether it was stubbornness or fear, a compelling enough reason held the both of them back from digging into the topic further, making for a rather uncomfortable ride. The trip to the forest of the Talking Owl was long and Seokmin only wished that he had been allowed to take Chan along.

 

~~

 

The forest of their destination was small, and navigation was a simple task. A path lay ahead of them, a sparse line in the grass where hooves trod on them so often; it wasn’t uncommon for folk to have a request for the Speaking Owl, even though the request was most often denied.

 

Likely, Seokmin hadn’t even had the time to catch his breath after presenting his question that he was given a verbal slap in the face.

 

“No.”

 

There was no explanation nor was there an excuse. It was a mere single-syllabled response to the request that they had traveled so far to hear. A simple answer to a request that took so much courage and effort to ask. 

 

Seokmin couldn’t find the words to protest. He came for such an important reason and he couldn’t turn back empty-handed, but his tongue was heavy with disappointment and he couldn’t do anything but fall on his knees to show his heart. As the ground scraped his skin, he wondered when it was that Soonyoung became such an important reason.

 

“Please,” Seokmin managed to mutter.

 

The Speaking Owl sighed. “If I accepted all requests, I would never be able to tend to my own duties. Leave. I have things to do.”

 

The great owl was level to Seokmin who was still on his knees, but it wouldn’t speak to him on ground-level.

 

“Please,” Seokmin said again, a little more firmly. He lowered his head to the ground, his hands supporting his forehead. He could hear the crunching of leaves get lighter and lighter as the Speaking Owl walked further away, each step crushing Seokmin’s resolution.

 

Mingyu cleared his throat.

 

“Aren’t you going to get up? The Speaking Owl’s been gone for a while now.”

 

“How could the Speaking Owl reject me without even hearing what I had to say?”

 

Seokmin’s eyes were closed. His head felt heavy from the blood rushing to it, as well as the accumulating guilt. He felt a hand pat the crown of his head, somehow lightening the weight.

 

“You tried. Isn’t that enough? You’re a very capable palace healer, really. Even without those herbs, I think you do a fine job at the palace.”

 

The weight returned in the form of shame.

 

“That’s not right.”

 

He lifted himself from the ground, his limbs crying from being held in one position for so long, his head dizzy from the blood rushing back to his body.

 

“I didn’t travel all the way to the Speaking Owl for herbs,” Seokmin admitted.

 

Seokmin couldn’t turn away from Mingyu’s glower. He knew the reason for his anger was either because he lied to the king, or because he left the king’s side for a reason unrelated to being a palace healer.

 

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

 

“I’ll tell you if we get what we came here for.”

 

“And what is that?”

 

“The seeing stone.”

 

“The seeing stone? Are you being sincere? Don’t you know there’s only one known to exist? What would you have offered to the Speaking Owl to receive something like that?”

 

He wondered. What  _ would _ he have offered? How much was Soonyoung worth to him?

 

“Anything,” he blurted, his heart speaking for him when his mind blanked out.

 

“Anything?” Mingyu seemed skeptical.

 

Seokmin was almost skeptical about it, himself, but he could feel that the answer was sincere. Since when Soonyoung held so much power over him, he still was unsure, but he could be sure of his feelings.

 

“Anything.”

 

~~

 

Seokmin started to think that he could memorize the way each blade of grass curved in front of him from how long he watched them. He could even predict what they would look like after a gush of wind from seeing how often that happened, too. He wondered if the Speaking Owl even saw him sitting in front of its home, or if by now Seokmin blended in as just another part of the forest.

 

Seokmin looked up at the Speaking Owl as it came out of its home, hoping to make eye-contact, but as he expected, he was ignored.

 

“How much longer are we going to stay here?”

 

“Just a little longer. We can wait a little longer, right?”

 

Mingyu patted his stallion’s neck as the horse pulled and munched on the bits of grass below his feet.

 

“We should get back to the kingdom as soon as we can. We won’t be able to get the stone, so there’s no point in waiting.”

 

Seokmin whimpered. “Just a little longer. We have enough food for the horses to last us a few days.”

 

“We aren’t getting anywhere here. We might as well go back and pick up some herbs on the way so that this trip isn’t a waste of time.”

 

“But-”

 

“What happens if the King’s Curse is more dangerous than we thought? We can’t leave His Majesty alone! If you’re not there to heal him, then who will be?”

 

Seokmin breathed slowly, trying to will the agitation out of him.

 

“The king is in good hands. I trust in Chan. I can’t promise that we are going to be able to get what we came for, but I promise that Chan will have everything under control.”

 

“But we can’t be sure that he is competent enough to-”

 

Seokmin, a usually gentle character, glared at Mingyu, more offended that Mingyu didn’t quite see Chan in the same light that Seokmin did.

 

“I trust him. If anything were to happen to me, he would be my successor, and I would have no worries that he would be an even better palace healer than I am.”

 

Mingyu let out a huff as he tugged at the horses’ reins, only saying curtly that he was going to lead them to some water. It wasn’t that he was unable to retaliate, but that he chose not to. He let Seokmin have the last words, but somehow, Seokmin wasn’t content knowing that Mingyu had more to say. But he didn’t want to bother chase him down to continue a useless bicker.

 

Bitterness sat at the back of Seokmin’s throat, and numbness settled in his calves. His desire to go home hadn’t been so strong until now.

 

When Mingyu came back with the horses to apologize first, Seokmin felt guilty. Even if Mingyu was a servant to the palace, he was of royal blood. It should have been Seokmin to apologize. 

 

“I was being overly sensitive,” Mingyu admitted. “I was just worried about Junhui.”

 

“I was, too. And I know that the king’s health is of utmost importance, so you’re really just doing your job by worrying about him.”

 

“That’s not the only reason. It’s about the King’s curse. I know you weren’t being completely truthful about the way to heal it. The gods wouldn’t have told you about it without talking about the dangers.”

 

Seokmin lowered his head. He was right that Mingyu hadn’t been convinced of explanation.

 

“It’s because the gods weren’t the ones to tell me about it.”

 

“Then who? Who would know about the king’s curse besides the gods, the palace workers, and the members of the royal family?”

 

Seokmin shifted. It wasn’t a good idea to hide anything from Mingyu now, especially since they were alone together. 

 

“You’re right. Those are the only ones who would know about it.”

 

“But who would know more than you? Or Junhui?”

 

Seokmin sighed. “The one who brought the curse upon the royal family, to begin with.”

 

When Mingyu’s brows knit together, Seokmin patted the grass beside him. “Sit, I’ll explain.”

 

When Seokmin finished reciting what Soonyoung had told him, he paid attention to Mingyu’s reaction. 

 

“Why didn’t you tell Junhui about this?”

 

“Junhui knows. He’s been told the story a long time ago, but all he knows beyond that is to stay away from Soonyoung. My question is, why didn’t  _ you _ know about it?”

 

“Was I supposed to know?”

 

Seokmin shook his head. “I don’t know. The king told me that the members of the royal family are told the story as children.”

 

“I was banished before I was a week old, and my mother isn’t of royal blood. She wouldn’t have known.”

 

Seokmin paused. There was something off about this.

 

“Are you sure you have royal blood in you?”

 

“If I didn’t, there would have been no reason for my exile.”

 

“But you don’t have the King’s Curse. Why not?”

 

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. I thought that I didn’t have the curse because I’m a half-prince. But you said the curse would be lifted if the curse isn’t healed for a few days.”

 

“Five days.”

 

“Right. And that made me remember something my mom told me about when I was younger. She was banned from Deorum right when I was born, but the day after she left, she came back because of me. I wouldn’t stop crying, so she thought I was sick, but no matter how much she begged and cried on her knees, the palace doors wouldn’t open for her. I stopped crying on the third day from exhaustion. I barely moved and I barely ate, and my mom thought I was going to die. But I didn’t. I was miraculously better after the fifth day.”

 

Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “Then, that means-”

 

“I don’t know. It could have been the King’s Curse, but it could have been another illness. But look, I don’t have the King’s Curse, even though I have royal blood in me, so maybe… Maybe Soonyoung is right about the cure?”

 

An unwilling smile tugged the corner of his lips. Seokmin was sure now that he was right to trust Soonyoung. He felt reassured that he could let thoughts of the palace and the King sit in the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand: to convince the Speaking Owl to accept their request.

 

~~

 

“I need your help, healer.”

 

Seokmin, still seated, looked up at the Speaking Owl, which had denied any sort of exchange before. He looked at his arm, which no longer had his arm-band. There was no indication anywhere that Seokmin was a palace healer.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Owls have an incredible sense of hearing, don’t you know? But that’s beside the point. I need your help, and if that means you want something from me, then so be it. I accept your request, but for now, if you could please make haste, my friend is dying.”

 

A still human girl lay on a bed of freshly plucked leaves, not stirring once as the Speaking Owl lead the healer to her. She was young, twelve-years-old at most, and her hair was disheveled as if she had fallen and hadn’t bothered fixing the stray strands that followed. Seokmin turned back to make brief eye-contact with Mingyu before asking the Speaking Owl, “Is this your friend?”

 

The Speaking Owl cooed. “Please help her. She was bitten by a snake and has been like this ever since.”

 

Seokmin shook off his robe, approaching the unconscious human girl. “Where was she bitten? How long has it been?”

 

“On her leg. It’s been an hour at most.”

 

Seokmin whipped angrily to the owl. “And you just now called for me? Snake bites require immediate attention!” he growled. “Mingyu, look for Bidens alba leaves in my supply bag!”

 

Seokmin’s hands flew left and right, rushing to provide treatment, his full attention given to the patient. He wiped his sweat when he did all he could, and only worried pacing remained in his agenda. The contagious action had all three of them pacing until, finally, the girl regained consciousness. She spoke weakly, but she was safe, and the Speaking Owl then showered Seokmin with gratitude. Seokmin hadn’t thought that he would have to treat anyone on his journey, but he was glad he packed a supply bag just in case. Who knew it would have been the deciding factor in accomplishing what they came for?

 

In addition to treating someone in need, Seokmin received his reward. Seokmin was lead to the Speaking Owl’s vast treasures, but of course, he only came for one thing: the seeing stone.

 

“This is what you came for, healer?”

 

Seokmin nodded.

 

The Speaking Owl closed its eyes. “It is the only one I have, but you may take it. I did make a promise, after all.”

 

Soon enough, Seokmin was back on a horse riding back to the kingdom, turning back one last time to the Speaking Owl and its dear friend, Yuna. He wondered how they had become so close, but then he considered his own curious affection to Soonyoung and understood that the world just turns and sometimes extraordinary relationships happen.

 

~~

 

Junhui’s screams filled the palace, and when Seokmin and Mingyu returned from their journey, they ran to find him. Mingyu reached Junhui’s chambers first, busting open the door with Seokmin close behind. It was a mess inside, pillows and sheets were thrown on the floor, mirrors shattered by the window, and servants pacing in every corner wanting to help somehow but not knowing how. Seokmin ran to Junhui, who was thrashing in his bed, screaming in pain.

 

“Your Highness!”

 

A maid touched his arm lightly, pointing to the bottom of the curtains, where Seokmin spotted a timid pair of feet. He pulled the curtain to see Chan’s tear-stained face.

 

“Seokmin!”

 

Chan hugged him tightly, and it pained him to do so, but Seokmin pulled him away. “What’s wrong with the king? What happened?”

 

Chan shook his head. “It’s the King’s Curse. He said he could handle the pain, but it kept getting worse and worse.”

 

Seokmin turned to Mingyu. “The fountain!”

 

Chan held onto Seokmin’s arm, holding him back. “I promised I wouldn’t heal him! He made me promise him!”

 

Seokmin pulled his arm away, the urgency of the situation lightening his feet. He couldn’t stand seeing the king, or anyone, like this. He told himself that it would be okay, that it was all a part of the healing process, but with Junhui look so aggravated, Seokmin couldn’t help but want to revert to the method he was used to. He was in panic-mode, and he couldn’t have Chan holding him back like this.

 

“It won’t be you, it’ll be me! I’ll take the blame for it, but we have to heal him now!”

 

Seokmin found himself being tackled to the floor and for a brief moment he was glad all the pillows were there. 

 

“Chan!”

 

Chan hurled himself into Seokmin, not letting him leave the King’s Chambers. “Please, Seokmin! This is what the king wants! If you heal him now he’s going to hate you!”

 

Seokmin tried pushing him away, but Chan was stronger than he was. “Chan, let go!”

 

“Don’t make me hate you too!”

 

His heart dropped for half a second. He paused, looking at Chan holding onto him tightly. Chan looked up at him, his eyes and nose red and his lips in a solid frown. He was serious.

 

“Chan-”

 

“Please… I swear this is for the best…”

 

Junhui’s screams were raspier and more desperate than before, his thrashing just as violent, but Seokmin became calm. He thought about it, and Chan was right, this was for the best. Even if it was painful for him to watch and much more painful for Junhui to bear, they had agreed to this. If they didn’t follow through on their attempt to lift the curse, then what would have been the point of coming so far?

 

Seokmin let out a breath, tension leaving his body. He patted the head of his beloved apprentice. In addition to being stronger, Seokmin wouldn’t be surprised if Chan had better judgment than he did. Really, what  _ would _ he do without Chan?

 

The remaining days of waiting out the curse didn’t go by particularly quickly, but when they were over, Junhui looked a bit older but somehow much more blissful. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Seokmin asked the fourth time that week. “Any pain? Discomfort? Anything?”

 

Junhui let out a breath, looking almost longingly at the fountain that used to be the source of his relief. 

 

“I’m really fine, Seokmin. It’s amazing how quickly it went away. After so long, who would have thought that five days would be the cure?”

 

Seokmin smiled meekly, relieved that the king was free from his chronic suffering, but still feeling guilty about his lies. Only he, Chan, and Mingyu knew the truth, and for the king’s sake, the three agreed that it would remain that way.

 

Not even the smallest scar was left, and that was what surprised Seokmin the most. There was nothing that would remind them that the curse had been real in the first place, except that Junhui marked the day as a new holiday. It was a celebration for the gods for giving him the route to freedom from the curse.

 

It was a celebration for the gods for what Soonyoung should have been given the credit for.

 

The only task he had left was delivering the spoils of his journey to the gods. 

 

And then, Soonyoung would finally be free from  _ his _ curse. His eternity-long curse of loneliness.

 

Seokmin had been avoiding his duty to receive the gods’ knowledge since the time he returned from his journey, thankful that Chan was more than willing to take his place to do it. He didn’t have the confidence that he would be able to hide that he wasn’t performing the healing ritual with the king, but now that the horrendous cure was over, he decided it was time for him to face the gods. This time, he would be asking for Soonyoung’s freedom from his curse.

 

Chan decided to come with him for support and to keep their tradition of taking their daily hike together. Their hands were held tightly the entire way up and Seokmin had been so nervous that he didn’t feel the need to rest. His entire body was so numb that he didn’t feel tired when he normally did. Still, Chan carried all the supply bags so that Seokmin would have less to worry about.

 

Their climb went by quickly and Seokmin almost decided he wasn’t prepared to see them, but he had to do it now or he would never. When the Garden of the Gods opened up in front of him, he finally let go of Chan’s hand, his own throbbing from being released from so much pressure. He speedily walked to the thrones, he closed his eyes, then outstretched his arms showing his offering to the gods, grasping the seeing stone tightly with both hands. 

 

“I brought you the seeing stone from the Speaking Owl!” he said eagerly.

 

He felt fingers brush against his and he loosened his grip, almost dropping the seeing stone, but Seungcheol had a good grip on it.

 

“So this is the object that owl treasures so much?” He turned it in his hand, lifting it up and examining it as the light shone through it. “I thought it would be a bit more… impressive.”

 

“Well, now you know,” Jeonghan shrugged. “That satisfied your curiosity, right?”

 

Seungcheol scratched his head. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a satisfaction, but I suppose so.” He turned to Seokmin. “You have my gratitude, healer.”

 

Seokmin fidgetted his fingers, wondering if they had forgotten their deal. “So, with this, you will lift Soonyoung’s exile on land, right?”

 

“Hmm?” Jeonghan raised a brow. “Why would we do that?”

 

Seokmin gaped open his mouth but recovered quickly. “It was a deal, wasn’t it? If I got this item from the Speaking Owl, then you would release Soonyoung from his punishment and let him live on land, right?”

 

Seungcheol tossed the seeing stone to Jisoo before crossing his arms. “But you see, we didn’t know you would actually be able to get it. We had no intentions of lifting his exile from the beginning.”

 

Seokmin turned back to look at Chan, who looked just as shocked as he felt angry. The Trio of Gods were supposed to be fair and just, but they were just having fun, and it made Seokmin realize how insignificant his human life must have been to them. He was just another palace healer who would eventually go, a temporary face that they would see every morning. He was angry at himself for not realizing sooner, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angry at the gods for being unfair. 

 

His heart pounded violently, and before he had a chance to think rationally, he swiped the Chalice of Knowledge right from under Seungcheol’s nose and drank its entire content. Gasps filled the garden, and he thought he heard a “You’re banished from land,” but only as the small and far voice, and he had already run to the edge of the mountain and leaped, breaking free from the shackles that chained him to land.

 

As soon as he hit the water, he opened his eyes and searched for the one person that had been on his mind this whole time, and as he swam toward their meeting place, he wondered when it was that he became such a fool for the underwater prince.

 

~~

 

Seokmin missed talking to Chan. He missed being able to teach him and have him by his side. Of everything that happened, the thing he regretted the most was being unable to talk to Chan. Ever since he drank the wine from the Chalice of Wisdom, he realized there was so much he didn’t know about being a healer, but now he could no longer teach Chan. From under the ocean waters, he could see Chan walk along the shore every day after hiking down the mountains. 

 

Chan had been looking for Seokmin. He had been missing from the palace ever since.

 

It pained Seokmin to know that Chan was so worried for him, but he was proud that Chan was able to replace Seokmin so thoroughly as a palace healer. Even if Chan didn’t know it, Seokmin would always be watching over him.

 

“Do you regret it?”

 

A pair of arms hooked Seokmin’s waist and a chin rested on his shoulders. The waters favored Soonyoung, as well, their voices as clear as if they were on land. Soonyoung had been right. All the earth’s elements truly did favor him, but Seokmin could understand why.

 

He turned to face Soonyoung, brushing the hair that swayed so easily in the water. Even though Soonyoung was no longer a mystery, he still aroused Seokmin’s curiosity and affection. In the waters, Soonyoung and Seokmin were the only two people that existed, but Seokmin couldn’t find himself ever getting bored of it.

 

“I would have regretted it either way.”

 

Soonyoung pouted. “Which would you have regretted more?”

 

“Not doing what I did,” Seokmin responded, looking to the shore, then back at Soonyoung. 

 

“You’re a fool,” Soonyoung muttered. “We could have still seen each other  _ and _ you could have been living your normal life. You threw away  _ everything _ . For what? For  _ me? _ ”

 

Seokmin chuckled. “I wouldn’t throw you away.”

 

“You wouldn’t have had to either way, really, what were you thinking?”

 

_ That I wanted to to be with you without limits. _

 

“It was an impulse decision, I admit. But what about you, then? Do you wish I hadn’t done that?”

 

A pause.

 

“You’re a fool,” Soonyoung said again, a bit more bashfully, this time. Seokmin didn’t miss it, how Soonyoung seemed happy about it despite his protests. He was content with his decision, after all. Both of them were.

 

“I know,” Seokmin replied. “I know.”

 

_ But I’m a fool for only you. _

 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading until the end! ♥


End file.
